A Risen Demon
by Wilson Hill
Summary: If there is such as thing as a Fallen Angel, could there be such a thing as a Risen Demon? Chapter 8 on the 1 year anniversary of the last update!
1. The Change of Heart

One last slash, and the demon fell dead. The paladin stabbed his sword into the soggy earth and leaned against it slightly, breathing heavily. It was at last completed, the last unholy beast in this forest was destroyed. Or so the paladin thought.  
  
A small disturbance off to the side alerted the paladin to a creature he hadn't sensed earlier. He straitened, lifted the sword above his head, and crept towards a thick patch of grass, where he had seen something stir. He reached out with his mind, fondling the foliage with his senses, trying to detect what lay within. He realized it might be a trap, and kept throwing quick glances to the side to see if there lurked a creature with malicious intent.  
  
The rain poured from the sky, drenching the earth in the fading twilight. The swirling pools of water, the tiny splashes of rain drops, the gurgle of miniature streams and waterfalls prevented the paladin from determining what lay ahead of him.  
  
The paladin had finally made his way within a few feet of where he had seen something stir, and he still wasn't entirely sure what it was. It very well could be a rodent settling in for the night, but something just didn't feel right about it. He lowered his blade and prepared to stab into the middle of the clump of grass when he heard a soft moaning. Carefully, the paladin used the side of his weapon to move the grass away from the source of the sound, and saw a small creature curled up.  
  
In the deepening gloom, it was at first impossible to tell what the creature was. A brief flash of lightning, however, gave the paladin enough light to see the scaly flesh and dark eyes of demonic offspring. The paladin lifted his sword and prepared to slash down to cut the life force from the small mortal shell of the beast, when thunder rolled across the land like barrels of bass sound. The demon, terrified of the rumbling, began to wail and kick its feet. For a reason the paladin was never quite sure of, Morgan did not bring his sword down. Another flash of lightning, another glimpse of the creature, and a new, strange line of thought entering the paladins head.  
  
Morgan began to remember the ancient legends, of how the original ruler of Hell, Satan, had originally been an angel. He remembered the story of the corrupted cherub taking the form of a mighty dragon and trying to overthrow the Throne of Heaven. He wasn't alone in his endeavors, he had many allies who wanted to rule. But, if there could be such a thing as a Fallen Angel, could there also, at least in some way, be a Risen Demon? A creature born of darkness who then grew to see the light?  
  
Once more, lightning arched across the sky, this time much closer to where the paladin was, and he received a frighteningly clear image of the small being before him. His ears clearly picked up the crying, the sobbing, the simplistic plead for protection against the terrifying sounds. His eyes say the look of terror sprawled across the young demons face, saw the tiny limbs thrashing for the comfort of its mother. This was not a demonic beast to be banished back into the burning hells. This was not an unholy creature to be slain for the sake of the light. This was a baby for God's sake, a baby. Still not fully sure of what he was doing, Morgan lowered his sword.  
  
The winds had picked up, the rain was coming down fast, and the bolts of lightning were nearly upon them. Morgan quickly realized that if he didn't act, the child would die. He sheathed his sword and knelt down, scooping the infant into his arms and quickly set back to the town. He pulled off his cloak and wrapped the young one in it, both to protect him from the elements and to keep his identity a secret.  
  
The next day, Morgan, still keeping the child discreetly out of site of the townsfolk, boarded a caravan heading directly back to the paladin citadel. He was hopping to convince the elders to raise the small creature as a paladin, teaching him their ways and their beliefs. Morgan smiled as he gently bounced young Akakios (for that is what Morgan had decided to call him) on his knee. "I'm sure to get hell for this one," he murmured, pressing a bottle of baby food he had gotten from a local midwife to the hungry child's lips. 


	2. The Deal

I know I said it was just going to be a brief story, but I decided to continue it anyway. Please review for an increased chance of further updates. ------  
  
"This is an outrage, Morgan!" thundered Alvis, the head council member. Morgan half way agreed. He had expected that his proposal would be automatically scorned, but he hadn't expected his own position on the matter to be wavering. Here, in the middle of the court, so far from the woodland, it seemed absurd. As Morgan had retold his tale of how he found Akakios, he nearly wanted to shout at himself for insubordination, yet he pressed on.  
  
"Further more," rang out Alvis' voice. "We do not, and have never allowed any paladin to simply scoop up a minion of Hell's to keep as a pet..."  
  
"I didn't bring him here as a pet, sir," interjected Morgan. "I brought him here as a recruit."  
  
"Which is even more ridiculous!" responded Alvis. "What makes you think that a demon like the one you brought here can be trained to use the lavatory, much less how to properly wield..."  
  
"We have seen various different types of demons wield different types of weaponry," Morgan cut off once more. "We have also seen them use simplistic pieces of armor. Since I know of no human merchant willing to part with these goods for the sake of arming demons, we are forced to conclude that the demons have intelligence enough to forge and use armor and weapons."  
  
"Perhaps, Morgan, but to what effect?" asked Katrina, diverting the attention from old Alvis before he popped something. "And what, uh, breed of demon is it that you've brought?"  
  
"You know very well that the creatures wielding these weapons used them effectively enough to pillage entire villages, many of them filled with strong men ready for battle! As for his breed, I have no idea. To tell the truth, I've never seen any demon like him," admitted Morgan, feeling that this was slightly beside the point.  
  
"Do we even know what it eats?" Alvis asked, his question dripping with sarcasm.  
  
"It seems to be content with human food," replied the deep rumbling voice of Samuel.  
  
"And how long before it craves human flesh?" snapped Alvis.  
  
"I find no humor in that," Morgan seethed.  
  
"No humor was implied," Alvis casually leveled. "But I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll allow the tiny beast to stay for a while, on the sole condition that his life be tied to yours. If he shows one flicker of corruption, you both will pay the price."  
  
"But sir, Akakios could very well be pulled into temptation that has nothing to do with the fact that he's..."  
  
"Then I suggest you keep a close eye on him and make very well sure that he doesn't get tempted by anything, understand?" Morgan looked downcast as he hung his head, considering Alvis' proposition. "Well?" asked the head council member. "Do you accept?"  
********** A half hour after the meeting was concluded, Morgan was bouncing Akakios on his knee. The demon child looked happy, but the paladin's face was quite grave. He hugged the demon closely and whispered in his ear, "Both of our lives are in your hands now, child." 


	3. Fourteen Years Later

Here is the corrected version of number three; It now has {} around Akakios' thoughts. Originally, these were supposed to be in italics, but I couldn't figure out how to get that to work. Anybody know? Anyway, more revies, more updates. If it makes you feel any better, I'm working on chapter four right now.  
  
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Akakios slashed violently, sending Morgan sprawling backwards to the ground. He then kicked back with his hind foot, knocking Samuel into the wall, lightly denting it. After only a split second pause, however, Samuel launched himself from the wall and engaged a series of swift strikes on his opponent.  
  
Akakios repeatedly blocked several of the attacks, barely having enough space or time to launch an offensive of his own. Morgan was back on his feet as well, and set about pressing in the advantage.  
  
Unable to keep up with both of the weapons coming at him, Akakios attempted to dodge to the side and scoot past the paladins to take them from the rear. As he made a break for it, Morgan swung with all his strength and smacked the pommel of his sword into the demon's upper back. The beast fell to the ground with a groan, as his own weapon slipped from his grip. Akakios looked up after he hit the ground, and desperately lunged for his weapon, but Samuel pressed his foot against the demon's wrist and held his sword to the demon's neck. Akakios lowered his head to the mat, resigned to his fate.  
  
"You did very well, considering it's your fourteenth year," informed Samuel, releasing his foot from the boy's arm.  
  
"Indeed, those were some impressive strikes, and you are quite strong," agreed Morgan, lending a hand to help Akakios to his feet.  
  
"Thank you," the demon replied, breathing heavily and leaning slightly against his training sword. "But it seems I have much to learn."  
  
"You have learned enough for one day," intoned Samuel, "it is time for you to rest. Your strength and dexterity are coming along fine, but your largest disadvantage is your focus. Sleep well, for we continue training your mental abilities tomorrow; and you know how draining that usually is."  
  
Akakios nodded, turned, and left, trying not to think about the next day. The mental disciplinary classes were always the most strenuous things to be put through. He climbed the stairs of the rear dormitory tower, and settled for a quick bath before heading to bed. He paused to examine himself in the mirror before settling in for the night, examining his features.  
  
His oval eyes, black as the pitch used in mending the ships, were only slightly larger than a normal human's eye. His nasal slits were about two and a half inches long, with no protruding nose to speak of. He opened his large mouth, looking at the large array of pointy, sharp teeth that filled it. He held up one hand, turning it over, and looked at the his long, thin fingers, the nails of which had to be frequently shaved down. They had once neglected to shave them for almost a month, the result was a set of quickly developing talons.  
  
Akakios shook his head and touched the top of his face to the cool glass. Or at least, it was probably cool. His rough, scaly flesh did not respond to temperatures as much as the human's did. He had been able to stick his hand into a pot of boiling water without extreme discomfort, although upon latter inspection it turned out he had injured his hand rather badly. He lifted his head and looked at his reflection again, this time looking himself in the eyes rather than at them.  
  
"Who are you?" he asked the person in the glass. "What are you? You are different from the others, you know that. But how? And is it more than how you look?" Akakios turned away from the mirror then, and headed to bed, not wanting to listen to the sound of his own raspy voice any longer.  
  
******  
  
"Suppose a man must climb up a fifty foot rope. It takes him three seconds to climb up three feet, and then spends two seconds sliding down one foot. How long will it take him to reach the top?" Samuel called out this question to Akakios as he sprinted in circles beneath him. The demon struggled to concentrate as he shifted the weight on his shoulders and ignored the biting cold from the water being sloshed on him. Since he had shown a resilience to extreme temperatures, Samuel had insured that the water came directly from the nearby glaciers, and it still had chunks of ice in it as it was poured unto the demon's running form.  
  
{Let me think, fifty times three minus...no that's not right, oh it's cold, it's cold...Ok wait, three seconds to go up three feet, two seconds to go down one, that's five seconds COLD!...five seconds for every two feet, Five seconds for every two feet...coooollldd, huhhhh, coooolld....Fifty, decided by two is COLD! And twenty five times five is REAL COLD! Is,} "One hundred twenty five!" screamed Akakios, finally coming to his answer.  
  
"Wrong, try again Akakios," replied Samuel calmly. "And if you give me a wrong answer again, I'll invite some of the ladies in here to watch you run." This threat chilled Akakios far more than the water did, as he was somewhat shy and all anyone was allowed to wear when undergoing these exercises was a pair of boots and a loin cloth. "I'm sure Jennifer would be very interested in watching you," added Samuel, for extra kick.  
  
{He wouldn't! Oh no, he might...} panicked Akakios, still running. Jennifer was a female paladin that Akakios constantly denied to himself and everyone else that he had any affection for. Akakios shook this line of thought from his head and tried to get back on track. {Was my math wrong? No, I can't think of where I gahhhh....cold...where I might have made a mistake. I mean, five seconds to two feet, it all makes...wait a second, if he made it in the last one...If he got to 48, then he would reach the top in two more seconds, and wouldn't slide down for two seconds, so it would be COLD!! Would be 125 minus four, which is} "One hundred twenty one!" shouted Akakios once more.  
  
"Hold the buckets!" called out Samuel. To the demon, he said, with a slight smirk, "Excellent, I'll be sure to inform Jennifer of how well you did." Akakios groaned in despair.  
  
******  
  
Akakios was still shivering and moving stiffly as he walked into the mess hall. After waiting in line and grabbing his tray, he sat down with a few of his friends, or at least, a few of the people who weren't openly hostile towards him.  
  
"What's with you? You look like you've seen a ghost," asked Enric.  
  
"Focus and mental discipline training," Akakios replied, with only a mild stutter.  
  
"Ugh, brutal," growned Roswell, stirring the mystery soup of the week with his spoon. "What did they make you do? Meditate in the waterfall?"  
  
"Worse," informed Akakios. "The Running Well."  
  
Roswell let out a low whistle. "I'm surprised they set you on that thing already, it's not nearly our level."  
  
"Both Samuel and Morgan think I'm ready to advance," shrugged Akakios, taking a sip of what was essentially tasteless lukewarm water.  
  
"What exactly is the Running Well?" asked Enric, looking from Roswell to Akakios.  
  
"Picture running a ten foot circle at the bottom of a six foot pit half naked, with twenty pounds strapped..."  
  
"Thirty," corrected Akakios.  
  
"All right, in this case, thirty pounds strapped to your shoulders while a bunch of people poor icy cold water on you. Oh, and you have to solve a bunch of problems and questions that you'll never need to know in real life," informed Roswell causally, spreading his biscuit with some kind of paste.  
  
"Wow. But, uh, what's the point?" wondered Enric, starring at Akakios in awe.  
  
"No clue. Something about separating mind from body, you know, so you can still think even when your body is going through a lot of abuse," replied Akakios, wondering if his soup would warm him up better if he just dunked his face in it. He was on the brink of doing this very thing when a thick envelope flew from no where and landed in his bowl. Muttering some rather soft profanity, Akakios pulled the envelope from his meal and looked at the label. Seeing it was indeed addressed to him, he opened it up, and began to read.  
  
"What's it say?" asked Roswell.  
  
"Is it another prank letter?" asked Enric, prodding the "Mystery Meat Loaf" to insure it didn't move to attack him.  
  
Akakios continued to stare at the paper in utter silence, the other two waiting for him to finish. When it was starting to take to long, Enric leaned over to the side and began reading it as well. After several more minutes of Enric wordlessly staring at the parchment, Roswell snatched it away and read it for himself.  
  
"This has to be a joke..." muttered Akakios.  
  
"I know, I mean, it might be real, but I mean..." stuttered Enric, equally shocked  
  
"Their sending you on a mission?!?" asked Roswell, a little to loud.  
  
"I leave in a week," confirmed Akakios, keeping his voice low.  
  
"This has to be a mistake," replied Roswell, turning the letter over in his hands. "You're still in training, there's now way they'd send a trainee out on a mission..."  
  
"He's always been one of the best students," replied Enric. "I mean, they may want to see how he handles himself in a real life situation. It probably won't be to big a deal..."  
  
"Can't be, I haven't even learned auras yet," agreed Akakios. "They're probably just seeing if I go dementedly evil as soon as I step out the gates..."  
  
"Akakios,..." murmured a soft voice. The demon stopped wiping his ear free of watery soup as he heard his name being called. He knew that voice... "I just wanted to tell you that Samuel told me how well you did," informed Jennifer.  
  
"Uh, did he?" asked Akakios, turning around. "I didn't do that good, I mean, I, er..."  
  
"You did wonderful!" breathed Jennifer excitedly. "Nobody does as well as you did on the first try! Keep up the good work!" Jennifer knelt down and gave the demon a quick peck on the forehead before scampering off to be with her friends. Akakios quickly realized he no longer felt even remotely cold.  
  
"Ooo, looks like the demon child is being led into temptation," smirked Roswell.  
  
"She was just...congratulating me," replied Akakios, picking up a bread roll and examining it with absolutely no interest in putting it into his mouth.  
  
"Where are they sending you, anyway?" asked Enric.  
  
"Uh," replied Roswell, scanning down the letter. "The Rogue Monastery."  
  
"Oh, great, they'll probably shoot you as you walk through the gates," replied Enric, rolling his eyes. 


	4. The Mask

(A/N) Read, Review, Relax, Repeat. Huh, for some reason, "Enjoy" is never mentioned in that, I wonder why?  
  
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"So what's this I hear about a mask?" asked Akakios, sitting down for another dinner of food that was rich in nutrients and poor in taste.  
  
"Well, Roswell, Jennifer and me figured..."  
  
"And I," corrected Roswell.  
  
"And I," agreed Enric. "Figured that you could use a hand getting along with the Rogues. I mean, they're a bit snippish, to say the least, so we've taken it upon ourselves to fix up a bit of a disguise for yea."  
  
"I appreciate it guys, but I don't think a burlap sack with eye holes will earn me any more respect," replied Akakios, taking a swig of water.  
  
"It's better than that," chided Roswell. "And it's not like we started it three days ago, we just finished it up in a hurry. Originally we were going to make it a birthday present." Akakios cocked an eyebrow.  
  
"Ros, I don't HAVE a birthday."  
  
"Fine, your discovery day," shrugged Roswell.  
  
"Ok, so what have you got?" asked Akakios, slightly more interested. At this, Roswell placed down a couple pieces of glass and Enric pulled out what looked like dentures. Akakios examined the artifacts before him. "Um, guys? I think the sack might not be a bad idea compared to..."  
  
"That's not all of it!" Enric cut in earnestly. "Jenn is one of the best leather workers in her class, you remember?" Akakios nodded, he remembered leather working class; it was required for all students so they could learn how to do minor repairs out in the field.  
  
"And you remember the molds we made for the custom helmets?" added Roswell. Akakios remembered this as well, they had all gotten molds made of their faces so that they could each have helmets customely built for them. The helmets, in the end, were almost comically weak; it was just another part of the learning process.  
  
"Well we saved yours," informed Enric. "And we've been working with Jennifer, who should arrive with the mask any moment now."  
  
"You're joking me," replied Akakios. "Those molds were made two years ago, my head can't be that small anymore."  
  
"Well, we went ahead and enlarged it somewhat," shrugged Roswell. "I'm still not sure how that worked, Enric took care of it." This made sense, seeing as how Enric was very good with most forms of masonry and sculpting.  
  
"Aye, but I didn't enlarge it to much, I kept it a little small. You see, the way Jenn treated the leather, it stretches, like real skin. So you'll have to pull it good and tight over your face."  
  
"And these," added Roswell, "go underneath the mask, in the eye holes." Now Akakios understood the significance of Roswell's task; the bits of stained glass would mimic a human's eyes and hide his own.  
  
"And this is the central piece," added Jennifer, slumping down beside Akakios and setting down the leather feign in front of him. Akakios picked it up and examined it; it was extremely good. Thin lines ran across parts of the face, but unless you knew what to look for, they appeared to be scars rather than seems. The demon could only stare blankly in shock.  
  
"I, ... I don't know what to say," stuttered Akakios, looking up at his friends. "I mean, it's obvious how long it took you to do this..."  
  
"Don't say anything, just try it on!" exclaimed Jennifer. With their tutelage on how to apply the false eyes, false teeth, and false flesh, Akakios soon bore his disguise.  
  
"How do I look?" asked Akakios, trying to make anything out through his glass eyes.  
  
"Um, needs work..." Roswell stated, somewhat regrettably.  
  
"Would I pass as humahh," Akakios was forced to stop at the end of his sentence as his top denture fell down.  
  
"As long as no one gets a good look at you," replied Jennifer sympathetically. Akakios took out both sets of teeth before continuing.  
  
"I still appreciate it though. I mean, it's excellent craftsmanship, I don't know why you bothered to spend so much time on me," Akakios said to Jennifer. He couldn't really see it, do to his visual condition, but she blushed slightly and turned away without answering his question.  
  
"The teeth could be improved if I could get a mold of your mouth," interupted Enric, oblivious that anything was going on.  
  
"The only other thing that really stands out is the fact that you never seem to blink," said Roswell, examining the demon's new features. "How does the mask feel on you?"  
  
"It's very weird, it feels like I have two layers of skin The eyes are a bit of an issue though; I can't really see out of them," informed Akakios, turning to the sound of Ros's voice.  
  
"Why does your voice sound odd?" asked Jennifer, getting over her embarrassment. "And why is your mouth hanging open like that?"  
  
"Uh...I can't breath through my nose. That's the reason for both," replied Akakios, taking another gulp of air.  
  
"Oh yea, that makes sense," replied Enric. "So in addition to the mouth piece, I'll have to drill nose holes.  
  
"And I think I can clean out the eyes, so you can see out them," chipped in Roswell.  
  
"And I have to make a few slight additions to the mask to make sure it fits you perfectly," added Jennifer, running her hand along the leather cheek. Akakios was slightly startled, as he hadn't seen her hand coming up to him.  
  
"As I said," informed the demon, starting to peel off the mask, "I really appreciate this. But what if I'm expected to fight while I'm wearing this thing? I'll never be able to defend myself."  
  
"Don't worry, we'll practice with you," replied Jennifer, her hands gently helping to lift the mask away.  
  
"Besides, once Ros fixes your eyes and you've worn it for a bit, it'll be like it isn't even there!" added Enric, waving a fork.  
  
"I'm not to sure about that," replied Akakios, trying desperately not to slur at the feel of Jennifer's soft skin on his own, even if it was just to help him with a mask. He lifted his head, now fully revealed, and looked around. "But I want to test it before I go. Did anybody see me try it on?"  
  
Roswell leaned back in his seat and looked over Akakios' shoulder. "No," he replied. "Or at least, no one is paying attention to us now."  
  
"Why should they?" chipped in Enric. He had a point; They were sitting in the most remote corner in the bustling lunch room, no one usually paid them mind.  
  
"I still have to make adjustments, but I have to go now. I'll see you guys later!" and with that, Jennifer jumped up, grabbed the mask, and jogged off towards the leather tanning rooms. Akakios watched her head off for a moment before turning to his friends again.  
  
"So then, how did you guy's talk her into it?"  
  
"Talk her into what?" asked Roswell.  
  
"Making the leather mask. I mean, this took a lot of work, and we've never been overly close. How did you convince her to take on this project?"  
  
"Didn't take much, honestly," replied Enric. "I overheard her say how much she loved leather working and tanning, and I asked her if she wanted a real challenge. She seemed shaky at first, but when I told her who the mask was for, she was really enthusiastic." Unfortunately, Enric had stated this while Akakios was tipping his goblet back.  
  
"Wait, wait a second!" sputtered Akakios, after coughing up a lung-full of his beverage. "You're telling me that she really wanted to do it after she found out it was for me?"  
  
"Uh...yea. Why?" asked Enric, blinking. Roswell sighed and rubbed his temples. Akakios sat back and considered his two friends. Enric was about a year younger than himself, but more than compensated this with his immense size. Only thirteen, and he was already five foot eight inches, and was about to have another growth spurt. Enric had explained this was due to his northern heritage.  
  
Roswell was a few years older, but wasn't much bigger than Akakios himself. Akakios suspected that was the main reason he hung out with them, despite the fact that they were younger; They were among the few who didn't mock him for his lack of physical prowess. Just as neither of them mocked Enric for his occasionally dense attitude and huge size. Just as neither of the other two had ever mocked Akakios for being...a freak. Akakios swallowed a lump in his throat. His friends had put a tremendous amount of effort into helping him shadow his physical attributes. How could he ever repay them? How could he ever help them blend in?  
  
"What's wrong?" asked Enric, glancing over at Akakios while consuming his food. "Got something in your eye?"  
  
"No," replied the demon, "just thinking." And what of Jennifer? Was it his imagination, or was she warming up to him? They had always belong to different crowds, different worlds, even. And that kiss she had given him the day he found out he'd be leaving, what was the meaning behind it? He didn't even know why he continued denying his emotions for her, except for the fact he didn't know what his emotions were. He wasn't human; was his species even capable of love? And even if they are, was it a human kind of love?  
  
Akakios suddenly and vigorously shook his head and stood up, picking up his lunch tray. "I'm going to dump this," he informed his friends, and surrendered his uneaten bread roll to Enric before marching toward the trash can. He would have to confront Jennifer before he left, that was for certain. He wanted to make sure that in case something happened to either of them while he was gone, his answer wouldn't be delayed. Now he just wasn't sure if he had the courage to do so.  
  
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(A/N) Alright, this chapter didn't work out as well as I'd hoped. But it's leading up to something, I'll tell you that much. 


	5. Demonic Courage

(A/N) First off, thanks to Stevetheloser and Ramaon for answering my pleed for help, not to mention previous support. And actually, no, I'm not using Microsoft Word/Works, I'm using this really odd MS clone and another dinky word processor off ZDnet. Perhaps that explains why saving as a web page dosn't work for this site....ah well. Here is the true Chapter 5:  
  
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Akakios squinted dimly at the landscape through the bits of stained glass. Although Ros had fixed them quite a bit, they still obscured and discolored his vision slightly, and it was hard enough to make out anything in the darkness. "How much further? the demon called out.  
  
"Not to long," called back the captain. Akakios shrugged. The paladins had transported themselves to the Rogue Monastery via ancient, deeply inscribed runes called Waypoints. The closest one, that they knew of, was located in an area called the Stony Field. Akakios knew why; his horse had nearly tripped over twice.  
  
Slowly, but surely, the band of five paladins made their way to the mountain path, the surest way to climb through the hillside. Each of the other five paladins had ignited a separate aura, but that was merely to prevent overlapping. Akakios had asked which aura was the best, and was quickly met with an argument from his comrades. All that the young demon had been able to pick up was that it depended more on your fighting style more than anything.  
  
"Let's try another question then," Akakios began, trying to be heard over Balrog's shouted declaration of strength enhancing auras. "Why am I here?" This was greeted with abundant silence. "Does anyone know?"  
  
"Because you were selected," replied one paladin slowly. Akakios turned and squinted at him. The paladin couldn't see this of course, so the effect was lost.  
  
"Yes, but why?" Akakios shivered against the chill of the night, as he waited for a response from his companions. The group captain suddenly started mumbling softly to himself, then turned to the demon.  
  
"All right," he said, turning his horse around. "I guess you have a right to know."  
  
"Captain," urged another paladin. "He isn't supposed to find out until we're..."  
  
"I know," Captain Calrisen replied. "But there's no reason not to let him know now. Akakios," began the captain again, "It is believed you may have some experience in the area were about to divulge in."  
  
"What area would that be?" replied the demon. "I hope it's not mental discipline..." This earned a short, nervous laugh from his companions.  
  
"The rogues have given us reason to believe that there is some kind of demonic interference in their monastery," informed the captain, not even smiling at Akakios' joke. Akakios sobered up very quickly.  
  
"What are you implying?" asked Akakios slowly, fear starting to crawl up his spine.  
  
"We need to know if demons are infiltrating the mountain path to the east," replied the Captain. "And you're going to tell us." Akakios felt his mouth go dry.  
  
"You're...you're going to use me as b...bait?" the demon choked out, hoping this was a mistake.  
  
"Huh? Oh. No, that's not it. But as a demon, you'll be more likely to sense any of your brethren within the strong hold, because the...Yes, what is it Silth?" the captain turned towards a lanky paladin who had been trying to gain his attention.  
  
"Sir," replied Silth, "Did you hear that?"  
  
"Hear wha..." Calrisen was cut off by a scream of attack. "What the blazes?" shouted their leader, drawing his sword and preparing to defend against the charge. He held his weapon high over his head in one hand, while tugging at the reigns with the other. He was unseated when three beasts rushed at him and plunged their spears into his horse, crippling it.  
  
"Attack!" screamed Balrog, who quickly began bashing down upon the beasts with his scepter, protecting his leader. Silth had already dropped the reigns and was in the process of stringing his bow. The last paladin stretched out his arms and summoned spinning hammers out of his bare hands that spiraled around the group, striking down more beasts that came to attack. Akakios was frozen to his seat.  
  
Akakios was forced to make a decision, however, when something lurched up from the ground and grabbed him, pulling him off his horse to the earth. He tried to keep the razor like nails from clawing him, grabbing each of the...hands? Akakios peered as carefully as he could at the growling, snarling face and realized with a sickening sensation that it was a woman. Unable to comprehend anything that was going on, he let go of her hand, a truly fatal mistake. She lifted her hand into the air, and brought it down to slash into his neck. Akakios was to terrified to even perform the simplest of blocks, but he didn't need to.  
  
As Captain Calrisen pulled the devil woman off him, he shouted at Akakios to run, to find a safe area. The shameful memory of the fact that he was already scrabbling for safety would haunt the demon for the rest of his life. He crawled as quickly as he could, then stood up and ran for cover, ducking and weaving between more demonic women while he covered his head with his arms. Once he had hidden himself behind another outcropping of rocks, he turned back and squinted to see how his companions were doing. He watched in horror as it became more and more obvious they were going to loose this fight.  
  
Calrisen's arm had become a blur, striking his enemies faster than the eye could follow. Silth's arrows flew strait and true, the flickering red aura enhancing his aim. Balrog decimated an enemy with every swing of his powerful axe, his slightly spiky aura boosting his already considerable might, and all of them benefiting from Calrisen's aura, a firey orange one that gave them the zeal and strength of a true fanatic.  
  
Despite their efforts. the women (or at least woman like creatures) continued to swarm the paladins with lances and maces, as skeletons off further in the distance launched a continuous hail of arrows. The forth paladin, whom Akakios never knew the name of, was the first to go. The last hammer he had summoned killed his murderer even as he fell. Calrisen was suffering many hits, the blood streaming down his armor in small beads and flying off his arm as he continued to strike with riotous ferocity. Balrog looked exhausted, and even though his thick armor protected him from many of the blows, it was clear he would soon ware out. And it appeared that Silth was about to be carried right off his horse and into the crowd.  
  
Akakios was rooted to the spot, unable to act or comprehend the images before him. The training, the discipline, the lectures did nothing to prepare him for the mind numbing terror that held him tight within its grasp. He watched as one by one, his companions and leaders were struck down, their mortal life ripped from the physical shell by the sheer mass of the attack.  
  
Akakios stared with wide eyes as the devil women prowled among the bodies, some even beginning to feast on the dead. One girl, apparently their leader, turned to another and said, "There were five."  
  
Akakios backed away from the scene in disgust, when his heel struck some kind of stone and he went down. The racket he made returning to earth was easily heard by the rogues, who turned to him and growled. Panicking, the demon picked himself up and did the only thing he could think of doing: he ran.  
  
******  
  
"Are you sure it was a good idea to send Akakios off so soon?" Morgan asked Alvis, strolling up next to him in a moonlit corridor.  
  
"Are you questioning my judgment?" Alvis replied, a steely tone in his voice.  
  
"Not at all, it's just unusual. Protocol says that it's not advisable to send anyone on a mission until they've reached their eighteenth year..."  
  
"That's for humans!" snapped Alvis. "And what's the matter with you? Have you lost faith in the beast?" Morgan turned to Alvis, his right arm slowly, almost imperceptibly moving closer to his sword.  
  
"You know, ever since your trip to the Kurast monastery, you've been shouting at people and accusing them of crimes we don't even have laws for. What is this really about?" Alvis, without warning, reached up and grabbed Morgan by the throat, pulling him down eye to eye with his ancient face.  
  
"You listen to me," spat the elder, "my business is none of your concern." Morgan's shock was quickly replaced with rage, as he wrenched the claw like fingers from his neck and grabbed Alvis by the collar and shoved him against the wall.  
  
"It very well IS my concern, and you are required to answer any questions regarding ..." was the beginning of the lecture that Morgan was planning on giving. He got as far as "IS", when he was thrown across the width of the hallway and slammed into the opposite wall, before slumping to the ground. He looked up at the elder, who was usually quite frail. Now however, he looked tall and powerful as a strange light surrounded him, though it was no aura that Morgan could recognize.  
  
"Never. Touch. Me. Again." spat Alvis, seeming to quiver with wrath that anyone could possibly consider questioning his authority. He then swept away from Morgan, seeming to half race and half stroll down the hallway to his chambers. Morgan picked himself up, promising to report this incident in the morning.  
  
*****  
  
Akakios couldn't run fast enough. He could still hear the women behind him, not to far from the clinking of the bones of the walking dead. Every time he felt he had escaped his pursuers, he was met with a new group of them. Every nightmare Akakios ever had was pulling at his brain, as everything from demonic little beasts to huge behemoths that towered above his small frame gave him chase.  
  
At last, when he felt he could run no more, he fell to the earth gasping for air. It turned out this was a stroke of luck, as had he stayed in his erect position, he would have been pierced by the arrow that sailed by him and struck one of his pursuers. Looking up from the ground, he saw a woman several meters off. She drew another arrow and let it fly. To the demon's amazement, it sailed over him again and continued to strike down another creature giving him unwanted attention.  
  
After the unusually helpful woman had slain the last of his pursuers, she walked over to examine his body. She walked slowly, the arrow tightly clenched between her fingers as she moved to examine the armored person laying before her. Was this a demonic being as well?  
  
Akakios gingerly raised both hands to where they would be visible. The fact she pulled the arrow back even further as he did this was not encouraging. He decided to try his luck verbally. "Please do not shoot!" he called to the woman. There was a pause.  
  
"Why not?" Akakios considered this.  
  
"Because I don't want you to."  
  
"Are you a traveler? A merchant?" Akakios didn't dare look up, but if he did, he would notice her easing off the bow slightly.  
  
"Uh...I guess you could say the first one. Me and my companions were heading for the Rogue Monastery."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"We were supposed to be looking for something. Er, demonic infestation, I think the captain said."  
  
"Demonic infestation? Would you, for the love of all that is holy, look around this place and tell me that we need someone to tell us there is demonic infestation?" Akakios very slowly lifted his head and looked around.  
  
"All I know is we were supposed to check for some kind of infestation at the monastery, we got ambushed, and I'm the sole survivor," Akakios said, hoping that would clear everything up to her satisfaction.  
  
"And what makes you think you and your buddies are qualified to sense a demonic presence, at least when it isn't really fricken' obvious?"  
  
"Well, most paladins are..." replied Akakios, wondering why she was asking.  
  
"Wait, now you're telling me that you're a paladin? Now I really ought to shoot you."  
  
-----  
  
(A/N)*The author approaches the reader, a pair of blood teeth slipping down from the upper gums* Come hither, mortal. Gdog hath a need and thirst for thine sweet, young...Reviews! Why, what did you think I was going to say? 


	6. The Demon Infestation

Chapter Six  
  
"And WHY do you want to kill me because of that?!?" shouted Akakios, struggling to his feet. The woman took a step back, raised her bow, and tightened her grasp on the arrow once more.  
  
"Careful," was all she said, the very tip of the arrow wavering slightly due to the stress it was under.  
  
"Would you please explain to me what's wrong with paladins?" Akakios asked, looking defiantly into her eyes. Once again, he could have had his eyes closed tightly shut for all the difference she would notice.  
  
"Nothing's wrong with paladins," replied the rogue, shrugging. "I should shoot you for lying about being one." This one surprised Akakios.  
  
"And why do you think I've lied about that?"   
  
"Because I've met a few of them, and they're not supposed to be cowards! A fully trained paladin would never run from a fight like..."  
  
"I never said I was fully trained," snapped Akakios. "If you must know, I'm..."  
  
"Then what are you doing out here?" sighed the woman, loosing patience with the conversation.  
  
"Look, I already told you, I was with...,"  
  
"I heard you before, but why would they pull someone out of boot camp, which I still don't believe, and send him on something as important as demon infestation?" Now this one Akakios had trouble with. He couldn't tell her the honest reason why they did this, and in point of fact, it seemed odd to him as well. Surely any trained paladin would be able to pick up on a demon strong hold just as well as he. He decided to go with the closest thing to the truth he could provide.  
  
"I don't know," he admitted. "Captain Calrisen was just explaining it to me when we were attacked." At this the rogues eyes widened slightly, and just barely, her arrow lowered.  
  
"Calrisen? He was with you?" Akakios nodded. "And now he's... he's..." Akakios nodded again. The rogue suddenly regained her grasp anew, as a flare filled her eyes. "I don't believe it!"  
  
"You want to see his body?" asked Akakios.   
  
*****  
  
Jennifer rolled over in bed, unable to sleep. She felt torn by the discussion she had with Akakios right before he left. After all the work she had done on the mask, stitching the leather, treating it to look like real skin, fitting it with the clay pieces used to transform Akakios' facial structure to a human visage, all he had done was thank her numerous times. It felt like he wasn't interested in her at all.  
  
But then, right before he was called to leave, he had taken her by the hand, and told her he wanted to explain his true emotions, despite the fact he wasn't sure what they were. Before he could get any further though, he was dragged by his leather ear to the waypoint and forced through. She didn't know what those emotions were herself, and was frustrated by it. Did he know why she had made the mask and was going to "let's be friends" her? Was he going to admit to some warm emotion concerning her? But if he was, why hadn't he hugged her, or in some way expressed himself outside of the last minute?  
  
She threw her pillow at the wall, which she regretted because then she had to get out of bed to retrieve it. As she marched back to bed, she sulkily decided that if he wasn't going to be upfront with her, she wasn't going to bother with him.  
  
*****  
  
The rogue seemed to ponder Akakios' offer. She lowered her bow, then looked into the dark sky, as a light rain began to play against her face. She looked back at him.  
  
"No, it's to late to do that now. We head out first thing in the morning."  
  
"Fine," Akakios replied. "Where do we stay until then?"  
  
"Follow me," replied the rogue, and she began walking off into the night. Akakios followed her, occasionally stopping when she did and watching her pick off a few beasts to far off for him to see. Eventually they came to what Akakios first believed to be a junk pile.  
  
"What happened here?" asked Akakios, looking at the rag tag assembly off wagons, tents, and live stock. The rogue guiding the demon turned and looked around.  
  
"Nothing, yet. Why?"  
  
"It looks like a war zone," replied Akakios, observing the crude structures.  
  
"Probably because that's exactly what it is, dolt," replied the rogue. "We had to set up this encampment on very short notice, essentially built around the waypoint we used to escape the onslaught."  
  
"What onslaught?"  
  
"You must be the most uninformed paladin I've ever met."  
  
"I'm beginning to agree," grumbled Akakios. The rogue turned and called out to another rogue.  
  
"Kashya! Have we sent out word to the paladins yet?"  
  
"We haven't been able to contact them about what's happened," snapped the woman identified as Kashya. "Last we heard, they're sending out a team to check out the Monastery, supposed to be there by tomorrow. Won't they be surprised!"   
  
The rogue that Akakios had been following was now silent. She turned to Akakios and said, "You can sleep on the ground for tonight, you'll be somewhat safe. I'm going to update Kashya on what you've told me. In the morning, we're going to want answers."  
  
"Fair enough," replied the demon. The rogue nodded curtly and turned away. "Hey," called out Akakios, "What's your name?"  
  
"Flavie," the rogue tossed over her shoulder.   
  
"I'm Akakios," the demon replied, then wondered off to find a place to rest. Deciding that sleeping next to one of the larger wagons would provide protection from the elements more than anything else available to him would, he laid down next to the first one he found. He wondered how he was going to be able to get any sleep with only the grass as his mattress, however he was unconsciousness before he could give the issue a second thought.  
  
*****  
  
Jennifer sat moodily stirring her porridge, not eating it. She hated herself for doing this; she was over reacting and she knew it. Finally she pushed the bowl away from her and stood up, surprising her friends. She ignored their questions as she walked over to Akakios' table. She was determined to get to the bottom of things.  
  
Enric and Roswell were already deep in conversation when she arrived. Enric noticed her first. "Jenn, did you hear about Morgan?" he asked, cutting her off before she could say anything.  
  
"I was wondering if you knew...What, huh, Morgan?" she asked, clearly confused.  
  
"First thing this morning, he went up to the elders and accused Alvis of harassing him," informed Roswell. "And claimed that he'd been acting completely out of line since he got back from Kurast.  
  
"Right," picked up Enric. "Now get this: Morgan's on trial for insubordination!"   
  
Jennifer frowned, this didn't compute. "Wait, what did he do to get on trial? I thought he went through the proper channels for lodging a complaint?"   
  
"He did," replied Roswell. "Then Alvis got furious and demanded his arrest. I don't know if it's true, but I heard that Alvis is pushing for execution."  
  
-----  
  
A toast to reviews,  
  
Which are always good news!  
  
For it tells me that yee,  
  
Want more of this story to see,  
  
And otherwise Akakios gets the noose. 


	7. A Chance at Redemption

Chapter Seven: A Chance at Redemption  
  
Akakios woke up, and instantly regretted it. He draped his arm over his face, covering his eyes to block out the unwelcome sunlight. Rolling to his side, a mental thought penetrated the dense layer of sleep that shrouded the demon's brain, something about how odd it was he could smell grass.  
  
Akakios rolled onto his stomach, attempting to get comfortable, but wasn't able to; his mattress was rather hard and somewhat lumpy. He reached out for his blanket to cover himself up, and couldn't find it. Figuring he had kicked the blanket off his bed in the night for whatever reason, Akakios rolled back over and flung his legs over the side of his bed, and was rather surprised to discover he wasn't in it.   
  
After a few minutes of panic, Akakios remembered the previous nights events with shocking clarity. Groaning, the demon grabbed hold of a wagon wheel and pulled himself painfully to his feet; sleeping on the ground had done a number on his back. He stood up strait and took a moment to examine his surroundings.  
  
In all honesty, the place in the daylight didn't look nearly as bad as it did on a moonless night. While still shoddy, nothing appeared to be in emanate danger of collapsing, not including himself. Strangely, the place almost had a idyllic, pleasant feel to it, as he watched various people going on about their daily business. Akakios limped over to a large chest and sat down on it, trying to gather his thoughts. He was interrupted from his mental exercise by a friendly voice beckoning him welcome.  
  
Akakios looked up, surprised as a man of medium height and build approached him, sticking out a hand. "I'm Warriv, the leader of this Caravan." Akakios stuck out his hand and introduced himself in turn.  
  
"Akakios, paladin in training," he replied, shaking Warriv's hand.   
  
"Well met, good paladin! Tell me, what brings you out here to this place?"  
  
"Me and a few others were sent to the Rogue Monastery. Fully trained paladins, you understand. We were supposed to route out some form of demonic infestation, but we were ambushed. I...am the only survivor," informed Akakios, slowly coming to grasp with the information himself. The previous night, it had all seemed somehow distant, like it couldn't be really happening. Relating this tale to someone else, especially with physical pain to reinforce his own existence, caused the message to sink into his own brain deeper than he would like.  
  
"How did you survive? You vanquished your enemies all by yourself?" asked Warriv, a look of even greater respect crossing his face.  
  
"No," replied the demon. "I let them die."  
  
"Pardon me?"  
  
"I let them die," repeated Akakios, with greater emphasis. He reached out and grasped Warriv's collar. "I watched them die, and then I ran. I didn't fight, I just ran for my own life and let them sacrifice themselves for nothing." Akakios slowly slumped to the ground, letting go of Warriv's shirt in the process. Warriv took several steps backwards as the crazed man slowly collapsed in front of him.  
  
"I, uh, see. I'm sure you did your best, to, uh..." began Warriv.  
  
"No," interrupted Akakios. "I didn't even try. I let them die..." Warriv braved stepping forward again, and put a hand on the crumbled demon's shoulder.   
  
"It doesn't sound like there was anything you could do. I mean, if they weren't able to repel the demons that attacked them, you probably would have just died with them," counseled the wagon teamster.   
  
"I should have," whimpered Akakios. "I should have died with them..."  
  
"Now isn't the time for regrets," scolded Warriv. "I'm sure you'll find a chance to redeem yourself, but first thing you need to do is contact your superior paladins and update them."  
  
"You're right," whispered Akakios, his voice a horse whisper as he tried to stench the flow of tears running invisibly down his cheeks. "You're right," the demon repeated, this time with strength in his voice as he managed to regain control over himself. "The rogues will also demand and explanation for my presence here." Akakios stood up, as strait and proud as his aching back would allow. "Who is in charge of this...uh" Akakios gestured around himself.  
  
"We call in the Rogue Encampment," replied Warriv. "And the person to speak to would probably be Akara," he added, waving his arm towards a distant, purple tent.  
  
"Thank you, Warriv," replied Akakios, who then turned and marched briskly to the tent that had been indicated to him, once nearly stepping on a chicken.  
  
"Funny thing," Warriv said to a nearby rouge. "He looks a bit old to be a trainee."  
  
As the demon drew near the tent, he heard a commotion of loud voices. He peaked his head inside and saw a withered old woman speaking to another girl who's temper seemed to be as flaming red as her hair.  
  
"Excuse me," ventured the demon, to which he was instantly met with one look of questioning and one belligerent glare.  
  
"Ah yes, the supposed cowardly paladin. Sit down, I'll deal with you in a second," barked the red head, and turned her attention back to the old woman. Akakios sincerely hoped it was the old woman who was Akara.  
  
Akakios took a seat on a small stool as he listened to the conversation, and examined the contents of the tent. It was lined with makeshift shelves, all of which were filled with bottles of exotic looking liquids. The demon causally examined a few of the labels, the titles of which ranged all the way from, "Min. Health Potion," to "Dragon Egg Yolk". Akakios suppressed a shudder when he saw a jar entitled, "Preserved Demon Heart," and decided to return his attention to the pair in front of him.  
  
"Akara, I'm telling you, they're planning a raid. We need to stop them before they're able to attack us!" Ah, at least Akakios' prayer about Akara's identity had been answered.  
  
"We find ourselves in complete agreement child, but I think it unwise to send any of our rogues into the Den of Evil. I fear that the darkness emanating from that place may prove to powerful," replied Akara, in a smooth, motherly tone.  
  
"Then we'll have to fortify the walls, possibly even seal the gate," replied the other rogue, who began pacing as she spoke.  
  
"Then they will simply wait until all our food reserves have run out,"  
  
"I'd like to them try," the other rogue replied, smirking. "We still have access to the waypoint."  
  
"Er, excuse me," interrupted Akakios. He was met with what is most commonly known as the Icy Glare of Death from the younger rogue and a slightly appraising look from Akara. "This Den, or whatever, where might that be located?" The younger rogue snorted.  
  
"Why, have you decided you want to join your companions in death? It's in the Blood Moor, if you must know."  
  
"Blood Moor?" inquired Akakios.  
  
"YOU'RE SITTING IN IT!" barked the young rogue, with a look in her eyes that said she was measuring the distance between her and his neck. "Now if you don't mind, I'm trying to figure out how to defend our outpost that you so deeply enjoyed last night." with that, she spun around to face Akara and started debating on where to post the guards for the upcoming attack. The demon slipped quietly out of the tent and began to ponder the information he was given.  
  
*****  
  
"Execution?" breathed Jennifer, her eyes growing wide. "It can't be true, we haven't executed anyone in years!"  
  
"Like I said," replied Roswell, "It could just be rumor."  
  
"Wouldn't doubt it if it was true though," replied Enric. "Alvis has been a bit funny lately."  
  
"He'd never go that far, surely?" asked Jennifer. Both Enric and Roswell shrugged. Jennifer shook her head to clear her thoughts, then remembered the reason she was there to begin with.   
  
"Listen, I know this is a bit, er, unexpected," she began. "But, do you think that Akakios, you know..." Enric sighed.  
  
"Yes, he has all the usual human bodily functions. Why do people keep asking that same stupid..."  
  
"No, that wasn't what I was about to ask," replied Jennifer, shaking her head.  
  
"All right, so what's on your mind?" inquired Roswell, spooning some thick, creamy, and overall bland paste into his mouth.  
  
"I, uh..." Jennifer floundered, she suddenly realized she felt humiliated. "Just,...nothing, forget it," and then she quickly hurried away. Enric turned to Roswell, snorting.  
  
"Betchya it was the bodily functions thing," he said darkly.  
  
*****  
  
"I demand to know the meaning behind his imprisonment," replied Samuel. His voice was calm, yet carried a strong undertone of violence.  
  
"Well Sam," began Alvis with sneer, "You see, when you arrest someone, you put them in a little box so they won't escape. Oh, we could go by the honor system, you know, let the prisoners guard themselves, but occasionally that doesn't pan out."  
  
"I meant" seethed Samuel, his blood pressure slowly rising beyond healthy levels, "What has he done to be jailed?"  
  
"Treason, assault on a brother paladin, and demonic infestation," Alvis rallied off.  
  
"And your evidence that he has committed any of this?" asked Samuel slowly, trying to maintain his calm.  
  
"What evidence do I need?" snapped Alvis. "He's guilty, it's obvious!"  
  
"Not to the rest of us."  
  
"Then perhaps you need to be arrested as well, because it is blatantly apparent that what ever corrupted him has overcome you too." Samuel did not answer, instead running his tongue across his teeth, cutting his oral muscle until he could taste blood. This was not the time or place for such a confrontation.  
  
"We shall have the trial as soon as possible," said Samuel, his every word dripping with menace. "I'm sure our judges will be able to see that Morgan has committed no wrong and is as pure as ever."  
  
"The trial won't be here," smiled Alvis, his mouth twisting upwards into a victorious grin. "It will be in Kurast, where they'll get to hear all about his, shall we say, previous endeavors. Bringing a demonic beast into our very midst, I ask you..."  
  
"Akakios is as loyal to us as he is brave and strong!" Samuel roared, his voice echoing across the stone walls. "I'd bet my life on it!" Alvis' simpering grin didn't even flicker.  
  
"Prepare to lose then," he whispered.  
  
*****  
  
So far, Akakios had only took part in one battle, and his primary action was escaping from it. The only shelter he had was being threatened, and the inhabitants of said shelter considered him to be a liability. He had no money, no means of contacting his paladin brethren, and no allies. The demon was unpleasantly surprised to discover that he had lost both his shield and his sword in his attempt to escape, his only armor was thin clothing, and his head was protected by a flimsy mask.   
  
Akakios approached the gate out of the Rogue Encampment and cracked his neck. It looked like it was going to be a fun day. 


	8. The Den of Evil, Part 1

Hey everyone. I apologize for not submitting this sooner, but I had a bad case of writers block, and then I wanted to get to a certain point in the story before posting it, then more writers block, and then I forgot about the story on and off for several months, and then I put it off some more... Then end result is that I'm posting this new chapter on the one year anniversary of my last update. I do not intend for this to become a pattern.

Now, since it has been a rather lengthy time since my last update, I am going to brief the reader of the story thus far. If you wish to skip down to the actual chapter, simply scroll until you see a page break; I'll see you down there.

Unfortunately, I had (about seven months ago) a rather nice recap of the story that I personally found to be rather clever, and I cannot find it now. Hence I will come back and edit this chapter with the "good" version of the recap when I am able to recover it, and for now we shall make due with this one:

Morgan, a paladin, stumbles across an infant demon. He decides to take it back to his paladin citadel because it's been almost two weeks since he's really ticked off the elders.

The demon, named Akakios, grows up trained as a paladin, and only has two friends who are also outcasts. Their names are Roswell and Enric. Akakios also has developed some kind of infatuation with another classmate, named Jennifer. Jennifer is evidently somewhat popular, but is also infatuated with Akakios due to reasons even she is not yet sure of.

The demonic paladin has been called into service at the tender age of 14, to investigate possible demonic activity at the Rouge Monastery. His friends, as a parting gift, craft for him a leather mask that fits over his own face and makes him eerily human looking. En Route to his destination, his group of paladins is hijacked by corrupted rouges, and Akakios runs until he arrives at the Rouge Encampment, where he is yelled at a lot by Kashya. Akakios then takes it upon himself to investigate the Den of Evil, because he really has nothing better to do.

I would at this point like to thank my reviewers for their unending support while this fic was regularly updated. Such people as Ramaon, Stevetheloser, Storm-Pietro, and others encouraged me to keep the updates fast and flowing, and I appreciate their cause and hope that they again find this fic once I start updating again. Now then, on to they story!

* * *

Chapter 8 

The Den of Evil, Part 1

"I really don't know what she sees in him," commented one of Jennifer's friends, gossiping while eating.

"I know, I can barely look at him without going ill," replied another comrade, eating whole heartedly. This was all of their conversation that Jennifer managed to pick up as she walked past them briskly, although she had to admit to herself, they had a rather good point. There was no denying that part of her stomach squirmed whenever she saw Akakios, and not out of romantic inclination. He was ugly, bordering on deformed. His voice seemed to be constructed entirely of molten tar. And it was just plain creepy the way you could usually catch you reflection in his black, pearl like eyes.

But then, there was something else, something one had to look twice to be able to see. The way the tiny scales of his flesh formed diagonal lines that seemed to flair from his face, making him seem larger yet streamlined at the same time. The way his features were slightly raked back as if he were facing a strong wind, gave a certain refinement to his character. And while his voice seemed deep enough to be emitted from a bullfrog, it also was also strong and definite. And there was something else as well, something that hailed to her mind from the distant past, some shadow of a memory that barely silhouetted against her consciousness.

* * *

Akakios stood in front of the cavern entrance. He could feel something inside the cave pulling at him, beckoning him to enter. It was like the mouth of the cave was trying to inhale his soul, attempting to consume him whole, to strip the warmth of life from him and process his mind and body into a useful servant. Captain Calrisen had been right, he could sense his brethren. Akakios took a tentative step forward into the belly of the beast, his foot step causing a small cloud of dust to rise and swirl around his ankle. The feeling of being pulled in neither waned nor waxed, but merely held true.

Akakios clenched and unclenched his fists, determined to put on a display of courage, to show that he didn't have to be afraid. He closed his eyes, trying to untangle the hardened knot of fear that seemed to cave his stomach in from all sides. He took several deep breaths, and it soon became apparent that there was only one way he was going to be able to overcome this obstacle of the mind. He turned, crouched down, filled his lungs to their fullest capacity, then launched himself fists first into the cavern, screaming a wild battle cry all the way in.

* * *

Roswell thudded heavily against the wall, flailing to defend himself. He attempted to push himself up and forward, but another quick shove forced him against the wall once more. A powerful arm pinned him against the barrier, the face behind it laughing mirthfully.

"C'mon Ros, you have to do better than that!" chuckled the owner of the arm, as Roswell feebly tried to move the fist drilling into his chest with both of his hands, and completely failing. He could feel his ribs starting to crack underneath the blunt force of his attacker, and he struggled to breath. In desperation, he tried to summon an aura, something he still hadn't accomplished yet. He attempted to focus the energies surrounding his body, to bend them to his will.

A spark ignited in Roswell, a familiar flame that had always dwelled deep inside of him. He knew he could reach out, that could grasp the strands of power that vibrated just beyond reach of the mortal eye. He could feel them churning, coiling, and wrapping themselves around each other and him. Despite his inability to inhale, he could taste the coppery power, feel the smooth texture. He knew they would gladly yield to him, serve him, ally themselves to him, if he only knew how to ask…

For now, however, the powerful forces would not aid him, in auras or any other form, and as the lack of oxygen slowly pressed in around him, he could see his vision dimming, filling with purple smudges as the inky, filling blackness swelled over him like a heavy fog.

He heard voices, vaguely felt himself fall, and then the fog began to retreat, slowly at first, until he realized he was still awake and that he was no longer dyeing of asphyxiation.

Above Roswell, Enric was glaring at Fredrick Sellers, who now sported a bloody nose. "You're gonna pay for that, you little wimp!" barked Fredrick, trying to stench the flow of blood with both hands.

"Fine," snapped Enric. He struggled up to think of a cleaver retort, but wasn't able to. He and Fredrick glared at each other for several moments, before the larger of the group stormed off. "At least I don't go around trying to kill people half my size!" Enric spat at the retreating form. He reached down and gingerly helped Roswell to his feet. "Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.

"I almost…" gasped Roswell, still laboring for each breath. Enric allowed him to pause before continuing. "I almost could do it," Ros finally said.

"What, launch an aura?" asked Enric. "You know, I think if you could figure out how to do a good one, they'd leave you alone. Hey, maybe they'd leave me an Akakios alone as well, since you'd be protecting us."

"No, not an aura," replied Ros, straitening up against a wall. "Something…else."

* * *

A roar of pain escaped Akakios' throat as a tiny dagger finally managed to tear down his leg, penetrating the armor-like scales of his flesh. He slapped the carver away frantically, and pulled the dagger out of his own limb as four others approached. The carver that Akakios had managed to kill earlier was once again born anew, summoned to life by the black magic of the shaman. The paladin hurled the undersized knife at the shaman, managing to strike him with the handle of it. The waist-high demon returned the favor, launching a fire ball at Akakios' face.

The paladin managed to shield the brunt of the blow with his arms; they were burned now of course, but it was better than taking it to his face. He frantically leapt over the heads of the small creatures, and attempted to put some distance between them and he. Unfortunately, his attempt to escape was impeded by the business-like fist of a disturbingly large creature. _Windego_, was all Akakios had time to think before he was sent flying over the heads of his previous attackers.

Landing heavily on the stone steps of the cavern entrance temporarily caused Akakios to black out. When he awoke, mere seconds later, the carvers were attempting to bind his limbs together with short lengths of rope. Akakios weekly struggled, pulling the cord off his body and scrambling away. The carvers leapt upon his weakening frame, attempting to prevent his escape.

Putting all his strength into the simple process of crawling, Akakios made his way slowly up the crumbling steps, occasionally making an attempt to shake off the furry hands clinging to his neck and extremities. It was mere survival instinct that drove the demonic paladin on; he knew he'd never survive the crawl back to the rogue encampment, especially not with these beasts weighing him down. After what seemed like an eternity of clawing at the earth while the Fallen clawed at him, punctuated by scattered fireballs exploding about him, he stumbled out into the daylight. To his surprise, the tiny fingers lost their hold on his torn and burnt flesh, their arms unraveled from his appendages.

Akakios knew nothing of the creature's orders to not leave the caves. He hadn't heard the commands that they were to wait for midnight before launching the attack against the remaining rogue brigade. All he knew was that they were no longer pressing their advantage. He rolled over and laid on his back, breathing heavily the scent of the overgrown grass a mere foot from his head.

His wounds hurt, but in a distant sort of way; the nerve endings that registered pain were more sparse and less sensitive than in human skin. Never the less, a steady stream of red blood tinged green continued to pour from his leg, though now it had slowed to a trickle. The flesh of his arms had already cracked and blistered; their slightly higher resistance towards extreme temperature as compared to a human had been proved irrelevant when exposed to the blast of the fire ball. His ribs were fractured in several places, and he was most likely suffering a concussion from his landing. Weather he could feel the pain or not, Akakios knew that he was mortally wounded.

The demon's fading, scrambled thoughts tried to register a plan, to come up with a way to save its self. Could he make it to the rogue encampment from here? He wasn't even sure in what direction it was. If he found it, would the rogues even allow him in? A stranger who's stupidity had caused him to be very nearly killed was of no use to them; plus they had more important things to worry about.

Hadn't one of the zombies dropped some form of healing salve? It was shortly before he found the Den of Evil, and stupidly he hadn't taken the small bottle with him. If he could somehow find the elixir in his state, he could perhaps heal himself enough for a second assault on the Den of Evil. That would allow him to prove himself to the rogues. At last, Akakios had something resembling a plan. He still hadn't moved a muscle when he drifted into unconsciousness seconds later.

* * *

"None of you feel this is a bit excessive?" Samuel asked. The numerous guards looked at each other and shrugged.

"Well, yes," admitted one of the guards. "But I'm sure Alvis has his reasons."

"He has reason for ordering that twelve guards…"

"There's fourteen of us, sir."

"More to my point. Reason for ordering fourteen armed guards on one man." The one man in question was slumped over in the corner, wide awake but barely able to move. "Look at him, he can't even get up! We could have sent the rats that we catch in the kitchen to guard him for all the difference it would make." The guards were once again forced to meet Samuel in his conclusion; Morgan was weighed down by an intricate system of chains that connected from his body to various support beams of the wagon.

"You're right," agreed one of the larger men. "But what can we do? When I asked Alvis why we needed to go so far, he threatened to feed me to the moat creatures one inch at a time, starting with my toes so that I could watch. I mean, what do you say to a guy like that?"

Samuel paused for a moment, thinking. When he looked up, he said, "Tell you what. I'm relieving one of you of your duties."

"Alvis said that there had to be fourteen guards or else…"

"Don't worry, there'll be fourteen guards."

* * *

"Ok," said Enric, slamming his fists into the sand filled sack hanging from the ceiling while Roswell steadied it for him by leaning his back against it. "You can feel the energies that auras come from, but you can't do anything with it." It disturbed Roswell slightly that Enric was able to summarize in one sentence what it took himself thirty minutes to explain. Enric paused a moment from his pounding, asking "What does that mean, exactly?"

"What does what mean?"

"The fact you can sense the power without being able to use it," continued Enric, resuming his attack. "Maybe what you're sensing is something else entirely. Maybe it was just something you ate." Roswell took a bite from his apple, being cautious doing so as his head was constantly bobbing around.

A few moments careful consideration and chewing, and Roswell continued. "I'm pretty sure it's real, because I've, well, _felt_ it multiple times, and if it was a hallucination you'd think it would be a bit more, I don't know, random."

"Not necessarily, I heard of a guy that had hallucinations he was underwater."

"So what?"

"He lived in the desert."

"That's irrelevant. However, I do think you might be on to something with the whole, 'it may be something else' bit. The only question is how do we find out?"

"Ask the aura summoning teacher. Tell her what you saw, and maybe she can tell you if it's the real thing or not."

"Can't do it. She says that if I can't summon an aura next time she sees me, she's gonna have Samuel run me through the obstacle course."

"Samuel can't be that bad, Akakios seems to like him."

"Akakios can make it past the first obstacle without passing out."

"Look, seriously, the wall isn't THAT high."

"Can we just drop it?"

"It's at most five feet; you're taller than it is.

"We can move on at any point now."

"Right, sorry. So asking Katrina is out. Where do we find out what a legitimate aura power source looks like?"

"We could hit the Book Shelves," thought Roswell. "There's probably a resource on how to distinguish energy patterns in there."

"Fine, we can try that right now," replied Enric, peeling off the gloves he used to protect his hands. He rubbed his knuckles for a moment, then jerked his thumb at the punching bag. "Sure you don't want a turn?"

"I'm good. You don't have to come with me if you don't want, I know you find the place boring."

"I'll come; you'll need my help reaching anything above the second shelf."

"Oh, don't make me hurt you." Enric just grinned.

* * *

(A/N)

I am hoping to update relatively soon, and to keep this story on the first page of the diablo fics for a sustained period. Just in case I don't, though, allow me to divulge the reader in some spoilers on the fiture of the story; if you do not wish to know these things, I recomend you turn away now.

Akakios isn't dead, and will not die in the next chapter.

Enric, Ros, and Jennifer will begin to realize that they have gifts outside of being paladins.

The story will go on and off the beaten path of the DII story line.

The story will end shortly after the compleation of "Act 2", for reasons which will become evident at the time.


End file.
